Against All Good Advice
by aisobel
Summary: Five snapshots. Jack, Claire, bad trackrecords, season 5. [Notes: spell checked, but unbetaed]


**Against All Good Advice**

**Summary:** Five snapshots. Jack/Claire, bad trackrecords, season 5. Notes: unbetaed

1.

There were case files splattered all over their desks. Maybe she was being paranoid, but it sure looked like Adam was hell-bent on burying them in work.  
She rested one of her elbows on the table and toyed with her pen.  
"It's late." he said, putting on his jacket. "Dinner on me. I'll give you a ride home later."  
They locked eyes for awhile. When Jack cracked a smirk, she shook her head in mock-disbelief.  
"We should have signed a contract when we first met, you know."  
"Why bother. It would only add to the pile of paperwork."  
Claire watched him as he patted his pockets, looking for the office keys. "Does Adam know?"

He stopped and gave her a look. _Since the day I requested you_, he thought, but settled for, "He knows me."  
Grinning, he handed her her coat.

2.

They ordered Chinese and sat comfortably on Claire's couch, legs tucked underneath them.  
"I still don't get it. If that woman were my wife, I'd have no qualms whatsoever in sending her to prison," he said, mouth full.  
"Gee, with all this devotion it's no wonder that the _last_ Mrs. McCoy filed for a divorce."  
"Nah, she left me because I work too much."  
"I figured it was something more to do with who you had keeping you company while working all those long hours."  
Jack shook his head and smiled sheepishly while trying to fish a shrimp out of Claire's box. "She made me promise I'd hire only male assistants for as long as we were married."  
At that, Claire let out a hearty laugh. "Smart woman!"

3.

He reached for her legs when she passed by the couch, -- like he did sometimes at the office -- placing his hands on the underside of her knees, then moving up her tighs.  
She stopped him, serious, but not ungentle.  
"I'm sorry, Claire."  
"No, it's fine. I...shouldn't have answered your phone." She finished buttoning up her shirt. "I hope this doesn't make things worse between you and your daughter."  
"There's not a lot of room left to get worse. We're distant. I have many years of absent parenting and minor indiscretions under my belt. She sees me as a hopeless case. On our best days, she humors me and says I should know better."  
Claire lowered her head, slipped on a shoe. "You're not the only one who should."

4.

A bottle of scotch was placed on top of the nearly-finished first draft for a warrant request. Claire looked up.  
Jack eyed her questioningly.  
"I'm sorry, I can't. Mike and Lennie are on the way. I've to finish this before they get here."  
"Surprise search?"  
"We hope so."  
"Tomorrow, then?"  
Claire pointed with a pen toward the lamp on her desk. A yellow post-it glued to it informed that Mac Gellar had called about 'Saturday's lunch appointment'.  
"And after?"  
"Central Park. Jogging. I can always use some head-clearance after meetings with my mother."  
He collected the bottle, resigned, and walked to his office's door. He stopped midway and turned back to look at her. "Scotch's more efficient, y'know?"  
They heard the elevator's hum and noises coming from the hall. Lennie and Mike offered them a friendly wave.  
Claire offered Jack an apologetic smile.

5.

The place was nearly deserted, with only a few men in the corner playing darts. Odd for a Friday.  
Jack found her sitting alone at the bar, nursing her drink. When he sat next to her, she seemed surprised.  
"You didn't wait for me," he said, offering a small smile.   
Claire returned the smile and watched him fold his jacket and leave it at the nearest stool. "Actually, I didn't think you'd come at all."  
"Why wouldn't I?"  
She said nothing, just turned her eyes back to her drink, tipping the glass a little and watching the ice melt.  
They sat in silence for a while, arms resting close together on the counter.  
"Van Buren said they already have someone in mind to replace Mike. Lennie is...not exactly thrilled."  
"He's been trough a lot worse, Claire." He brushed the back of his fingers against the back of her hand. "Come on, let me take you home."  
She shook her head. "I think I'll just finish this and grab a cab."  
"I'll wait with you."  
"I wouldn't be very good company right now."  
He reached for her drink and took a sip. "Nonsense. You're always good company."


End file.
